The Division of Coastal Management shall be the only State agency authorized to develop rates of sea-level rise and shall do so only at the request of the Commission. These rates shall only be determined using historical data, and these data shall be limited to the time period following the year 1900. Rates of sea-level rise may be extrapolated linearly to estimate future rates of rise but shall not include scenarios of accelerated rates of sea-level rise. Rates of sea-level rise shall not be one rate for the entire coast but, rather, the Division shall consider separately oceanfront and estuarine shorelines.

What are they, HIGH? Not that I’d suggest the North Carolina legislature is enmeshed in the thrall of addictive plant products that get users hooked to the point of causing a major health crisis.

But seriously, really? That a state would legislate a scientific process by discarding logic and game the system so as to be able to make it illegal to do anything other than putting their fingers in their ears and going Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyah ad infinitum until the bad smart person just gives up?

I went back to some of the notes and files I put together for doing… well, you know… and saw how the Tarheels fared in the scenario I had. On average between calm periods and the extended inundations during a now-extended hurricane season, Wilmington International Airport is under an inlet to the sea that rolled over Southport and Carolina Beach, Beaufort and Cape Hatteras are great places to scuba dive, and Camp Lejune is in an even better defensive position now that it’s on a peninsula.

But after reading this, I might want to see if there’s more to be done onto them to be mentioned in the back end of the book. I’ve seen climate change deniers of all stripes, many of whom are starting to realize lately that yes, there is something going on here and it may be time to rethink the denial, but this just makes me want to get all Booksof Samuelon their asses.

There’s denial that’s just plain stupid, and then there’s this, something criminal that will hurt thousands of people. If this does not kill them, then it will certainly ruin them through economic disincentive, their properties either uninsured or under-insured thanks to poor risk assessment legislated into existence by narrow minded folks who probably live inland away from the impending disaster. And again, those without the means will pay the most when the time comes, bearing the cost of another’s foolishness.

Part of me hopes that this becomes for the climate denial movement the high-water mark. (Pun not intended; oh hell, maybe it was…) Once word gets out that people need to change the law to keep their fantasies alive and spit on facts and observation, that maybe this would wake people up and get them to see that much of the “doubt” is really a psy-op campaign by special interests to allow them to keep a very enriching status quo in place.

Mind you, I never thought a statehouse would actually go this far to deny climate change, so it might get a little wetter before it dries out…

For the next week, you may want to check out Brad Guigar’s EVIL INC. [EDIT: Link changed to get to the start of the storyline that was current when the post was made] Let’s just say that he’s brings into his strip a character that’s of, well, interest considering my history…

I’m the one on the right; I almost joined this crew in Brooklyn, until I saw his ship; frankly, the accommodations aboard that boat left a lot to be desired…

Actually, he was just the first option before me* when I went looking for a ship as I suggested I might. As the USS Waspwas doing liberty call in Manhattan, we went to Brooklyn where we thought it’d be easier to go for a ship there. And truth to tell, when we saw and boarded the Cuauhtemoc and the Juan Sebastian de Elcano, we thought they would have been worth hoisting the Jolly Roger atop their mainmast.

Well, that and the fact that it’d be rude to seize a navy training vessel, cause an international incident, give Brooklyn a bad name, and that a party of five civilians against scores of naval cadets aboard either tall ship supported by the navies of three countries and the NYPD were really really bad odds…

Well, yeah, part of me thinks it could have been fun if we’d made an effort…

But, then again…

Thanks again for bringing the camera, Susan

* Though in all seriousness, this gentleman was there to bring attention to PortSide New York, which turned the tanker Mary A. Whaleninto a cultural institution and is looking for support. If you get a chance, visit their site and see what you can do to help them find a better berth for her.

For my efforts, I got a nice note from the organizers, who closed with, “Shame you didn’t know until so late, but you are perfectly placed for next year, now!”

And for a moment, I sat there and asked myself, Placed for next year…?

You see, the truth of the matter is, when I heard the term “flash fiction,” I sort of assumed that the descriptive discussed more than just the brief length of the piece.

Silly, right?

I saw the term in context of Peter Denton’s contribution to the day (a good read, BTW), and maybe it was the hour, the mishigas I was in the midst of, whatever it was, I assumed that part of the flash fiction experience involved not just the size of the story, but the speed of competition.

So here I was being asked to do a piece that didn’t allow me my usual process, which meant thinking about something, taking it apart over a few different angles, dealing with the thousands of Necessary Distractions swirling about me, getting to a place physically and emotionally after dealing with all of that (sometimes through ill grace, which I’m trying to cut down on), maybe have a few drinks before I run through a draft, take a break to socialize and play a video game, re-do the draft and apply a little more polish, repeating as necessary, starting over if after a few times it feels way too wrong. And if you think reading that run on sentence was rough, try living it…

No, I just bolted when I thought there was this need for a piece with a small window before me to get it out there, and I just cut through and set it loose quickly. And I did it in an expedient seventeen minutes.

So yeah, I’m kind of an idiot as far as understanding what flash fiction is all about.

But still, seventeen minutes from finding an open market to publication, now that’s got to count for something, ain’t it…?